


Pray For Lightning

by OrianDCate



Series: Same Song, Different 'Verse [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amatakka, Double Agent Vader, Ekkreth - Freeform, Fialleril, Nittura, Planet Mortis (Star Wars), Planet Tatooine (Star Wars), Storytelling, Tatooine Culture (Star Wars), Tatooine Folklore (Star Wars), Tatooine Slave Culture (Star Wars), Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:28:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28056891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrianDCate/pseuds/OrianDCate
Summary: There are as many tales of Ekkreth the Sky-walker as there are grains of sand in the desert; yet there is only one tale of Nittura, the Dark-lighter. And it is this.Inspired by Fialleril's "Double Agent Vader".
Series: Same Song, Different 'Verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2086440
Comments: 5
Kudos: 84
Collections: The_Newbie's Star Wars Fanfic





	Pray For Lightning

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Shape-Changer](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4678835) by [Fialleril](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fialleril/pseuds/Fialleril). 



I own nothing. Least of all this.

* * *

_“Say I don’t need no glasses,_

_I got perfect hindsight;_

_So we just pray for lightning_

_And hang on to this kite.”_

_\- The Devil Makes Three, “Chains Are Broken”_

* * *

_Author’s Note: This takes place a fair amount of time after A New Hope._

* * *

The tales of Ekkreth the Sky-walker are as many as there are grains of sand in the desert; for the face of Ekkreth is ever changing, and so the story must change with it. The faces of Nittura the Dark-lighter are no less in number, and yet Nittura has but one story to his name. For though the face of the Dark-lighter is ever changing, the shape of Ekkreth’s shadow will always remain the same. And thus, so does his story.

* * *

A storm was coming.

Vader could feel it in the air; smell it in the wind.

The storms of Tatooine could never be mistaken for those of any other world; and to one who had grown up on the edges of the Jutland Wastes and Dune Sea, the signs of an approaching gale were unmistakable. There was no lie in the flicker of haze in the horizon; in the ache that grew deep with the bones of Ar-Amu’s children.

There was a time when Anakin Skywalker had been counted among the latter; when he, too, could have felt the approaching storm. But Anakin Skywalker was dead. Darth Vader had taken his place; and Darth Vader had no time for either feelings or storms.

He would carry on through them.

It had been…foolish, to land so far away from Kenobi’s hut. But in his haste to destroy what little remained of his former Master in this world, he had been forced to make a difficult decision. The old fool had chosen his hiding place well; the shifting sands that surrounded it on three sides would have swallowed any shuttle foolish down to touch down atop them. The cliffs that overlooked the one remaining side would have been an infinitely superior landing site, if it were not for the fact he knew they would be impossible to scale in the oncoming storm. Instead, he had followed the long, winding trail that led away from Kenobi’s abode from the air, until it had widened into an open plain large enough for his fighter. For his Master had commanded his presence in the Chommell Sector, and to wait in the old man’s home for the storm would have meant twice the punishment: the punishment of relying upon Kenobi yet again for something as basic as shelter, and the punishment he would’ve received from his Master should he have been delayed.

Even in death, his former Master was just as capable of torturing him as his current one.

When the storm hit, it was as if the Mighty One had opened wide her jaw and swallowed him with a roar. The surrounding world disappeared in a howling cloud of dust, utterly blocking out the double suns overhead. Were it not for his helmet’s technological capabilities, he would’ve been rendered completely blind in the darkness.

No; not _completely_ blind. He still had the Force, and the Force would always guide him true.

But the infra-red sensors helped.

He pressed on; he could not afford to tarry. To be assigned to the Chommell Sector was a severe expression of the Emperor’s displeasure; he had no doubt it would become even worse should he not arrive on time.

_“You have forgotten who you are, Ekkreth.”_

The kriff?

That hadn’t been his commlink; any signals meant for him would’ve been lost in the swirling cloud that lay between him and any potential contacts.

_“You have forgotten what it is to be a Sky-walker.”_

From the darkness, a figure emerged.

Dressed all in black armor and cloth, much like him. But that was where the similarities ended. Where Vader’s helmet was rounded and flared, the figure’s was angular and harsh. Multiple jagged horns were welded around it’s apex, forming a twisted semblance of a crown; the look of a Zabrak warrior, but somehow even more hateful. No eye sockets were sunken beneath it; only blank, unmoving obsidian that could barely be called a face. The mask then tapered downwards into the many desert wrappings below, before dissolving into shadow.

Where Vader’s cloak was billowing and loose, the figure’s coat was fastened and tight; stopping just short of the tops of a pair of shin-length boots. Where Vader’s respirator should’ve hung was strapped instead a thick bandolier, positively straining under it’s cargo of ammunition. And where Vader’s lightsaber was gripped tightly in his fist, was mirrored instead a spear: a single, solid piece of metal, formed from the same ebony material as the figure’s armor. And yet, despite the iron’s apparent lack of hue, it still seemed to glisten in the non-existent sunlight. In fact, the figure’s entire appearance seemed to flash with light here and there as it moved ever closer toward him.

The figure came to a stop just outside the reach of Vader’s lightsaber, and planted it’s spear in the sand.

“Ekkreth.” It said. “The Sky-walker. The Slave Who Makes Free. You have forgotten the meaning of your name, boy.”

The red glow of Vader’s blade seemed to dim in the presence of this stranger. “Skywalker is dead. He was weak; so I killed him.”

The figure’s only response was to laugh. “You cannot kill the Sky-walker, boy! For as soon as Ekkreth has seemingly been vanquished, he will spring up again elsewhere, with another face and shape. The story will go on. All the way to Depur’s Star, should Ar-Amu will it.”

Vader froze. “…How do you know of the Death Star?”

All knowledge of the battle station had been erased, by order of the Emperor himself. As far as the rest of the galaxy was concerned, it had never existed. How did this…nobody, in the middle of the desert, come to hear of it?

The figure cackled wildly, and then abruptly stopped. “I shall tell you, boy. I shall tell you the story of the Star that Depur enslaved, of how the Sky-walker destroyed it…and of how Nittura, the Dark-lighter, helped him.”

“I have no time for such things as stories.” Vader rumbled.

“Perhaps not.” The figure shrugged. “But you will listen all the same. For I know you, Sky-walker. Far better than you know yourself. And you have always loved the stories.”

It was true.

He wished it wasn’t; but it was. And so he deactivated his lightsaber, settled into a meditation stance, and listened.

“The tales of Ekkreth,” began the figure, “are as many as there are slaves on Tatooine; that is to say, without number, and becoming more every day. But there is only one tale of Nittura; and it is this. Once upon a time Depur was able to extend his reach greater than he ever had before, and to Depur, who had once stolen the moon, this was a very great reach indeed. For Depur was able to not only steal the planets in the sky above, but all the people that lived upon them. Now, when Depur had grown thus in power, Ekkreth realized that his trickery would not be enough on its own to challenge Depur’s might. And so he changed into a bird, and flew to Amaru, who Ar-Amu had raised up to lead the people in war against Depur. But when he arrived, Amaru did say to Ekkreth, ‘Though you may be able to walk the sky, Ekkreth, you have no place in this war. For to topple Depur, we must walk amongst the stars themselves, and stop the pilots and fleets that keep his reach so long. Go back, and tend to the harvest and those working it, Ekkreth; for that is your place.’

And so Ekkreth went out into the desert, and cried; for he was unable to help Ar-Amu’s children as he had wished. But Nittura, the Dark-lighter, did hear Ekkreth’s cry, and come to offer his aid. For there is one thing that will never change: as long as the desert is dry and the suns are hot, Ekkreth will be like a brother to Nittura. Now, when Ekkreth had told Nittura all there was to know of the matter, Nittura did say to Ekkreth, ‘Take heart, my brother; for there is yet a way for Ekkreth’s tricks to be of use in the war against Depur.’

And Nittura then revealed his plan to Ekkreth; that they would both change their faces, and join the ranks of Depur’s overseers, so that they may become acquainted with the fleets of Depur, and pilots in their own right. And when the time was right, Ekkreth and Nittura would bring to Amaru all that they had learned: how Depur’s pilots flew, what their cargo was, and where they were bound. And thus their trickery would deprive Depur of his reach, while placing it in the hands of those who opposed him.

Now, Ekkreth loved the plan his brother had made, for it was his brother that had made it. And so they agreed: Nittura would go to join Ekkreth’s overseers, while Ekkreth remained behind for a little while. For Amaru had spoken truth when she said that the harvest and those who tended it were also in need of Ekkreth. And so the two brothers parted ways, each planning to rejoin the other very soon. But it was here that Ar-Amu did make her own mark upon the story.

For while Ekkreth was tending to the harvest, Depur’s reach continued to grow, until at last Depur was able to enslave a Star for his service. And this Star Depur did twist and chain until its purpose, to provide light and warmth to the world, was changed into one of destruction: to turn those same worlds it had once sheltered to ash. And with his Star, Depur believed his power to be assured.

Now Nittura, when he heard of the Star, and how Depur had enslaved it, did face a terrible choice: whether to stay and wait for Ekkreth, thus giving Depur time to use his Star against Amaru, or to go and warn her, and give up hope of seeing Ekkreth again. But in the end, the Dark-lighter remembered the meaning of his name, and flew away to Amaru in one of Depur’s ships; for it is the job of Nittura to shed light on the secrets kept by Depur.

And it was well that he did; for Leia, the Mighty One, did meet Nittura upon the way. And when she had learned the secret of Depur’s Star, she sent Nittura onwards to Amaru, while she did go forwards into the heart of Depur’s empire, to obtain a way to release the Star from its pain. She succeeded; for none can stop the Mighty One from going forward wherever she wills. There is but one way to fight her: and that it is from beneath.

Now, there was a slave-master of Depur’s, named Umakkar; for he was like a raging storm when he fought. And this Umakkar knew the secret to fighting the Mighty One; so, as she did return to deliver her precious cargo to Amaru, he came at her from beneath, and trapped her., and took her to the Star of Depur, to witness the coming destruction of Amaru.

But what Umakkar had forgotten, was that Leia was the daughter of Ekkreth, and had many tricks of her own. And so Leia did send the Secret of Depur’s Star onward to her father before she was fully taken; and thus Ekkreth learned not only of Depur’s Star, but of Nittura’s flight as well.

Now, because Ekkreth loved his daughter, he did not immediately go to Amaru with the Secret, for he knew he would not be in time to save his daughter if he did so. But there were none left he could entrust to take the Secret onwards themselves either; for all that could once have done it were now with Amaru. And so Ekkreth changed his face, and obtained passage into the heart of Depur’s Empire to save his daughter. And because none can hold Ekkreth, he did make his way to Depur’s Star itself, and rescued the Mighty One from where they had bound her with chains.

Now, because Ekkreth is a trickster, he did make known himself and the escape of his daughter, so that he could lead Umakkar and Depur’s Star to where Amaru was hid; for he knew that Nittura had prepared them for it. And so Umakkar and Depur’s Star did follow Ekkreth and Leia to Amaru; and Amaru was ready when they arrived.

Leia, Ekkreth, and Nittura all did work together that day; and when the fateful moment came, Ekkreth was the one to release Depur’s Star, while Nittura did give his life to ensure his brother’s success. And while Umakkar did cause Nittura to fall, it was only for a time. For none can kill Nittura; and wherever there is much darkness, you will find him, shedding light where once there was none. Now, do you know the secret of Nittura’s story, Sky-walker?”

“…No.”

“Then listen, and know: Ekkreth has as many faces as he has stories, but in this story, he had four. For Ekkreth was himself; and again, he was Leia; and again, he was Umakkar; and again, he was Lukka.”

“Lukka?” Vader’s voice rumbled in confusion. “You must be mistaken; for Lukka was not in the story at all.”

“Was he not, Sky-walker? I have told you the first part of the secret; I shall now tell you the rest. For Nittura was the opposite of his brother: where Nittura has had many names, he has only ever had the one shape. The name of the one who was born in slavery, but through Ar-Amu’s hand, became the savior of Amaru. Whether that name be Dark-lighter…”

The figure held out a jappor snippet, “or Banai…”

Vader’s breath hitched. There was only one Banai he had ever known; only one he had ever given a jappor snippet to. _“Kitster…”_

The figure paid his whisper no heed, and placed the snipped back in its bandolier. “Or Oppress…”

And here the figure turned his spear in such a way that Vader could clearly see it’s true nature; that it had once been an axe. An axe whose head had been sheared off, and whose shaft had been sharpened in it’s place.

“Many names, indeed, Sky-walker. But only the one shape: that of Ekkreth’s shadow.”

Vader stared. “Who _are_ you?”

“I?” The figure laughed. “Can you not guess, Ekkreth? Do you not know your own brother?”

The word seemed to drain all the water from his mouth, leaving him as dry as the desert around him. “ _Nittura…”_

“Yes, Ekkreth.” The figure nodded. “I am Nittura; the Dark-lighter. And I have shown you a Secret, oh brother mine. The last Secret of Nittura…for now, at least. For while Nittura is the lighting that ignites Ekkreth’s fire, once the fire has caught, there is no longer a need for him. Remember my story, Ekkreth; turn it over in your mind. And once you have learned all that you can from it, you will realize that Lukka was indeed in the story after all.”

Nittura’s gaze turned skyward. “The lightning has now struck, Ekkreth; the fire has been born. Only you, now, can say how it will grow.”

There was a crack of thunder; a brilliant flash of light; and when Vader’s photoreceptors had at last rebooted, Nittura was gone.

And so, too, was the storm.

But the storm in the world beyond raged on; for he was Umakkar, and he brought it with him wherever he went.

And yet again, he was Leia, the Mighty One. For Depur had only managed to trap him from beneath.

And yet again, he would be Ekkreth: for while he was yet a slave, there were others he could free.

And maybe, someday, when Depur’s Empire had fallen, he, too, could be Lukka: the free.

He dusted the sand from his shoulders, and pressed on.

He could feel it in the air; smell it in the wind.

A storm was coming.


End file.
